I Dare You
by I'm gonna raichu a story
Summary: To keep it simple: The bad touch trio is hanging out at a bar when just a simple dare, turned their lives upside down...
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so I, for one, love to read bad touch trio stories. I love them so much that I decided to write my own. I hope you like it. Fair warning, Spain's a bit... out there in this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia...

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"Okay Francis," Gilbert began, his eyes patrolling the bar. "I dare you... to get that girl's number." The Frenchman looked to where his friend was pointing and saw a gorgeous brunette sitting a few tables away.

"_Ohhonhon mon cher,_ you have good taste but, really? I thought dare's were supposed to be hard or, challenging. Not the kind if the thing I do before breakfast," the blond reasoned.

"But this is way different. This girl is so out of your league! There's no way you could get her number," the Prussian said, chugging down his fifth beer and putting it down. Francis swiftly stood up and banged his fist in the table.

"No one... is out of _my _league." The Frenchman walked over to the brunette at the same time their Spanish friend came back from the bathroom.

"Hey, where's Francis going?" Antonio asked as he sat down.

"He went to go get turned down by that hot chick over there," the albino explained, pointing to the girl was currently being flirted with by the last member of their trio.

"Why would Francis go over there just to get turned down?" the Spaniard questioned, confused. "That seems like such a hassle."

"What? No!" The red-eyed man turned to look at his brunette friend and grabbed another beer off the table. "I mean, he didn't go over there to get purposely turned down.

"But that's what you told me."

"No, I meant that he went over there to try and get her number but he's not going not be able to."

"Why? Does she not have one? That's not right. You need to have one so you can call your friends. Unless... she doesn't have any friends. Oh, that's so sad Gilbert! Let's go over and be her friends right now!" Antonio pleaded, tugging on his comrade's arm.

"What, no! Stop it! She has a number!"

"Then why can't she get it?"

"She's out of his league."

"Just because she quit his baseball league doesn't mean they still can't be friends."

"Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"What do you mean? You just told me."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?"

"I meant it like... Francis doesn't have any game."

"Well just because he doesn't own a game of Monopoly doesn't mean he shouldn't be able to get her number."

"What, no! This isn't about Monopoly!"

"What is it then? Is it Yahtzee? Does he not own Yahtzee?" Before Gilbert could reply, their French friend came back showing off a piece of paper he held in his hand.

"And done," he said with a smug look plastered on his face. "I got her number."

"_Mein gott_! How on earth did you do that?" the Prussian asked, his mouth agape.

"I told you, _no one_ is out of my league. Read it and weep." Francis gave his German friend the slip of paper. The Prussian read the slip and started to laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" The blond questioned, his face falling.

"It only says seven!"

"What?"

"Here." The albino gave the paper back to the Frenchman. "Why don't you 'read it and weep'?" Francis read the scrap and sure enough, the only thing on it was one number: 7.

"What?" He asked unbelievingly. "How did this happen?"

"Maybe it's speed dial," their Spanish friend suggested.

"It's not speed dial, Antonio," Gilbert explained, immune to his friend's comments. "I told you Francis, there was no way you could get her number."

"How do you know that? We should at least try. Here, give me your phone Francis," Antonio ordered, holding out his hand.

"It's not going to work. We shouldn't even try," Francis reasoned, shaking his head.

"Give me your phone," the Spainard repeated sternly.

"Okay." The Frenchman gave him his cell phone.

"Okay, now we wait," the brunette said, after he dialed the number and put the phone up to his ear. Suddenly the trio heard Mariah Carrey's "Obsessed" ring through the air.

**I was like, why you so obsessed with me?**

**So, oh, oh, oh, o**-

"Oh my god Francy! Is that you?" A voice answered the phone.

"Guys, it was that brunette," the Spainard explained, pointing to the girl who was now talking on her phone.

"Um...hello? I can still hear you, you know," the voice on the phone said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here's Francis." He passed the cell back to it's owner.

"Um...hi," the Frenchman greeted hesitantly on the phone. "Who is this again?"

"Francy! How cou- oh wait, I get it. Were playing the "I just met you game". Well, I'm Denise Roberts, who are you?" Francis immediatly put his hand over the phone and started to whisper, "I knew that girl looked familiar. I already slept with that brunette guys, but then she got all clingly. She's the reason why I had to change my phone number."

"Then how is her number on your phone?" the Prussian asked. The blond quickly sat up in his chair and seemed to be taken aback by the question.

"I-I don't know," he realized horrified. They all sat in silence until they heard the brunette's voice from the phone again.

"Hello? Francy?"

"Oh um, yes I'm here," the Frenchman replied, putting the mobile to his ear.

"Oh good. You know, I was getting afraid you wouldn't call me."

"I talked to you 5 minutes ago."

"I know right? It's practically been a year."

"Um, right, okay. Hey listen, I'm kind busy now, so I call you later."

"Promise?"

"Promise," the blond said, as he hung up. "Well, it's official, I'm getting a new phone number."

"Do you wanna go?" Gilbert asked.

"No, we just got here. Plus, that's not the first time that's happened. Anyway, now it's your turn..." Francis scanned the bar, searching for his next victim. His eyes stopped when he saw a blond sitting by the bar.

"I dare you to go and up to that guy, turn him around on his stool, and kiss him." The albino looked to where his friend was pointing and saw a blond guy in a red oversized hoodie sitting by the bar.

"Oh yeah, I saw him when we were entering the bar. He had violet eyes, though I remember his hair being a darker blond though."

"It's probably 'cause it's so bright in this bar," Antonio offered.

"No, it's dark in here."

"So? It's still brighter then before."

"No it's not. The didn't change the lighting in here, so the guy's should be the same hair color as before."

"No...I don't think so."

"But th-"

"Are you going do the bet," the Frenchman interrupted. "or are you guys just going to talk about this guy's hair all night?"

"I'll go with talk about this guy's hair all night for two hundred Alex!" the Spaniard exclaimed, banging the table like a buzzer.

"Oh, I am doing the bet," Gilbert said, standing up and taking another swing his beer. "Come on guys, kissing a complete stranger? That's child's play. Consider this challenge...accepted." The German finished his beer before his setting the bottle on the table and approaching the blond. _I could've sworn his hair was darker_, the albino thought, as he stood behind the man sitting at the bar. _But again, what do I know? I only got a glimpse of him._ The albino nodded in agreement to his thoughts, before swiftly turning the blond's chair around, and forcing his lips onto his. The blond sat there completely frozen for about two seconds, before pushing the Prussian away.

"Get the fuck away from me, you bloody wanker!" the man cried.

"Oh come on, don't act like you didn't enjoy getting kissed by the awesome me," the albino said, wiping his lips and regaining his balance. " I mean, when I saw you before you had this bashful appearance but now that I see you clearly.. I can tell that you are not him." Now that he got a look at this guys face, he could tell that this was definitely not the same guy he saw before. For one thing, this guy's eyes were green and angry, nothing like the first guy's sweet and violet eyes. He also had these big bushy eyebrows that he was afraid might hatch at any time and turn into butterflies. But he was wearing the exact same jacket as the first guy though...

"Why are you wearing that jacket?! It doesn't belong to you!" the German realized.

"I don't have to bloody explain myself to someone who practically raped me!" the blond yelled.

"Arthur! Are you okay?" a man asked, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. "What happened?" _Now this is definitely the guy,_ Gilbert thought, looking at the man who just showed up. _Although he isn't wearing his red hoodie anymore. So bushy brows __**is **__wearing his jacket! I was right! Well, of course I'm right. It's physically impossible for anyone as awesome as me to be wrong about anything. _The albino looked back at the green-eyed man who was still shooting daggers with his eyes at him. _Okay well, that doesn't count. _

"No I am not okay. This bloody pervert just molested me!" Arthur cried, jumping off his stool.

"Whoa, whoa," the white-haired man said, raising his hands in defense. "I may be a lot of things, like awesome...and awesome...and well, more awesome, but a pervert is not one of them."

"Arthur let's just go, okay?" the violet-eyed man suggested, pulling his friend away. "Lovino said he only had to serve one more person before his shift ends and then we can leave."

"Wait, no! Don't go!" Gilbert pleaded, grabbing the darker blond's arm.

"Let go of his bloody arm, you pervert," the Brit cried, slapping his hand away and turning to face his friend. "You got to be real careful with this kind if people Mattie. They wait until you're not paying attention and then they do a sneak attack. That's how they get you."

"I'm not trying to molest him. I just want to talk to him, Arthur."

"How the bloody hell do you know my name? Have you been stalking me or something? See, I told you Mattie, this is how they get you."

"Mattie here," the German began, winking at the darker blond. "just said it."

"Do you have something in your eye?" 'Mattie asked. "It kinda just twitched."

"What? No, I just w-"

"We don't care what you did, just stay the bloody hell away from us!" Arthur yelled, turning around and walking right by the other blond.

"Does he expect you to follow him or something?" Gilbert asked, looking Arthur sitting down at a table with his arms crossed.

"No, he probably just forgot I was here," the violet-eyed man smiled sadly, looking at his feet.

"Well, I'd never forgot about you," the Prussian whispered into the man's ear, making the blond shiver.

"That's very sweet of you, but I've gotta go back to my table. Sooner or later Arthur going to realize that I'm gone," he said softly, walking away.

"Wait Mattie," he cried, grabbing the blond's arm. The sound of his name made the shorter man turn around.

"Mattie?"

"Yea," the albino chuckled. "That is your name, right?"

"Well actually, it's Matthew. My friends call me Mattie."

"Well then... there's absolutely no way I can call you Mattie then."

"What?" Matthew asked sadly, before shaking his head. "I mean, that's fine. I had to go back anyway." He started to leave when the Prussian grabbed his arm again.

"What I meant was, since all your _friends_ call you Mattie, the awesome me cannot call you that 'cause we're obviously _more_ than just friends."

"What? No we're not," the blond blushed. "We just met."

"Okay, so let's fix that. Give me your number," he said, holding out his hand.

"Wow, you sure don't beat around the bush."

"No, I don't. I set fire to that bush." the German grinned. "Now give me your number." The blond bit his lip as if he was contemplating the idea, but eventually shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but no. I don't want to give my number to a complete stranger."

"Fine, my name is Gilbert Biederschmict and yours is Matthew...something. See? Now we're not complete strangers. So give me your number."

"Sorry, but it's still no. Besides, Arthur would kill me if he found out I gave his molester my phone number."

"Okay, first of all, I did not molest your little friend over there and secondly, if you don't want him to find out, then don't tell him," Gilbert suggested, leaning on the bar.

"No, I still won't give you my number. Sorry."

"You know, I'm starting to think you're not really sorry. And you do know, that if you won't give me your number, I'll just call all the numbers there are out there until I find you. The awesome me would do that."

"Matthew!" Arthur exclaimed, his eyes searching the room for the Canadian. "Mattie where are you?"

"Looks like I've gotta go. It was nice meeting you though." The blond waved goodbye as he went over to join his friend at the table. _I will get your number one way or another, _the albino thought as he ordered himself another beer.

Meanwhile over at Antoino's and Francis's table.

"Okay, I'm going to go the bathroom, so if the waiter comes over just order me another drink," The Frenchman said as he headed towards the facilities.

"Okay," the Spaniard agreed as a waiter approached his table.

"What can I get you?" he asked, taking his notepad and giving Antonio a menu. The brunette was about to order when he looked up at his server.

"You're really pretty."

"What the?" the waiter asked, taken aback by the comment. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"I said, you're really cute Lovi," the Spanish man repeated, now stroking the brunette's arm.

"Get you fucking hands off me!" the server yelled, slapping the man's away. "And why the fucking hell are you calling me Lovi, you creepish bastard?!"

"You name tag says Lovino, but I think Lovi is so much cuter."

"What can I get you?" Lovino gritted through his teeth, using all his willpower to not punch the man. His boss said if he had one more 'accident', he would be fired. _Oh no,_ Antonio thought. _He doesn't like me. Maybe I should use one of Francis's lines, that always seem to work..._

"I'll have one of you, with no clothes, and a side of whip cream," the Spaniard said smugly, handing the menu back to the brunette.

"One of me with a side of whip cream..." the brunette waiter chuckled. He put his notebook down on the table and patted down his apron.

Punch.

"Oi, my nose!" the Spainard cried, cupping his nose and rolling on the floor. Lovino grabbed his notebook and took out his pen.

"Now that that's settled, care to order?"

"My nose," the green-eyed man groaned in reply.

"No? Okay, then I guess my shift is over. I hope your nose is broken, you fucking pervert!" The Italian spat as he removed his apron and walk over to where Matthew was sitting.

"Come on Mattie, let's go," he ordered.

"We can't yet, Arthur just went to the bathroom."

Meanwhile, in the bathroom...

"Trying to rape me, stupid pervert..." Arthur mumbled while walking into the bathroom. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't realize where he going and bumped into someone.

"Oh pardon, je suis tres desole." The man apologized, as he turned to look at the Arthur.

"Don't just stand there, you idiot!" The Brit reprimanded. "Apologize for what you just did, you bloody wanker!"

"But I already did."

"No you didn't, all you said was that gibberish thingy when you hit me."

"That gibberish was French, which I apologized in."

"Well how was I suppose to bloody know that, you twat?!"

"Well, if its anyway consolation, I'm sorry."

"Well it's not." The Brit was about to turn around when the strange blond man grabbed his arm.

"How about I take you out to dinner? You know, to properly apologize," he offered.

"Why would I want to eat dinner with someone basically just copped a feel on me? I swear, this is the second I've been molested today!"

"What? No! I did nothing of the sort. I just accidentally bumped into to you!" the Frenchman defended.

"Oh please, I know how you people are. You cop a feel but you cover it up by 'accidentally' bumping into them. That's how they get you!"The Englishman accused, poking his finger in the man's chest, making their faces dangerously close.

"You know," the blond whispered seductively."I'm still holding your arm." The Englishman looked at his arm to see that what the man had said was true.

"Then get it the fuck off me, you bloody trouser!" he cried, swatting his hand off his arm. The Brit rushed past the Frenchman and left the bathroom. He went to go join his friends at their table.

"I swear, everyone here is a bloody rapist," he declared, plopping down in his seat.

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Please Review! Just so you know, I'm don't know if I shall continue this story or not... I'm still in the process of deciding. Ta ta for now!


	2. Chapter 2

**So sorry it took me so long to upate this story, but I've been busy these days with school and everything. I've been writing this chapter slowly but steadily over the past few weeks, and here's what I got. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait! Please enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I do not nor will I probably ever own hetalia ...**

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Alfred and his boyfriend entered the coffee shop and the first thing the American did was search around the cafe. He stopped when he spotted the Englishman sitting by himself, reading a book as he drank his coffee.

"I'm going to go say hi to my pal over there by the window while you meet up with your friend, kay?"

"Okay, but don't take too long," his boyfriend agreed, before walking off in the other direction. _This is going to be fun, _the blond thought as approached his ex.

"Are you here alone Artie?" Alfred asked coolly, sitting down at the Brit's table. "You still moping over our breakup, aren't you?"

"What?! No, of course not, you bloody twit!" Arthur defended, taking his eyes off his book and clutching onto his drink. "I came to this coffee shop to get my morning mocha! How dare you accuse me of such, you pompous, arrogant, self-abso—"

"It's okay, Artie," the blue-eyed man interrupted. "It's going to take at least four months to get over the hero that is me, and we only broke up ten days, two hours, and ten minutes ago."

"Did you not ju—wait, you remember the exact time that we broke up?"

"Hmmm, oh that…um….," the American hesitated, biting his lower lip. "Wait yeah, of course I do. I mean, who wouldn't remember the exact time that you fell on your knees, begging me to take you back. That was priceless," the man laughed, regaining his former composure.

"I did nothing of the sort!" the Englishman exclaimed, slamming his coffee on the table.

"Then what would you crying and pleading for me to take you back."

"That didn't happen, you wanker!"

"Then why are you here, still all torn up from our break-up, drinking coffee alone?"

"Well, for your information, I've moved on.. In fact, I already have another boyfriend.

"Wait, Really? Did you ser- Wait, I mean, where is this _boyfriend _then? I remember when we were dating, _I_ used to come with you _everyday_ to get your morning mocha." _Wait, he seems kind of shaken up, _the green eyed man thought. _Could he really- wait... no, that'd be impossible._

"No, you didn't. At most, you came once a month and that was when I promised to buy you at _least_ five donuts. Trust me, there is no use to comparing you two, my boyfriend is so much better than you ever will be."

"So? I still came," the bespeckled man shrugged. "Anyway, tell me about this magical boyfriend of yours who apparently will come get coffee with you twice a month without a donut bribe?"

"Like what?" the Brit asked nervously.

"I don't know, maybe his name?"

"His name?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?" the American asked, his lips on the edge of a smirk.

"No, what! Of course not! It's just that…um…. I don't need to tell you that. You'll probably stalk him or something. Yeah, that's right, I know you're game. You casually ask about my boyfriend's name, then you, as the jealous ex, look him up, stalk him, befriend him, get him to break up him me, then sit back down in your apartment smiling waiting for me to get another boyfriend, and do the process all over again. That's how they get you!" the Brit cried, sitting up in his chair.

"No, geez, why does every question I ask you end with "That's how they get you". I just wanted to know his name, you know, to see if he actually exists."

"He does too exist!"

"Then give me his name."

"I will," the Englishman nodded. He stared at his ex awkwardly for two minutes before picking up his drink and going back to the novel on his lap.

"Well?" the blue-eyed man inquired, making motions for his former boyfriend to continue.

"What?" the dirty blond asked, feigning confusion as he took his attention off his book.

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Right, um….his name is…..what I'm trying to s-"

"Come on, get to the point. I don't have all day," Alfred said, exasperated.

"Well, no one asked you to bloody be here, you can leave anytime you want to," Arthur explained, annoyed.

"Fine, whatever. Just tell me his name already."

"Okay, um….his name is…..okay, if really you want to know his name, it is-" Just as he was about to finish his sentence, he was interrupted by someone swiftly turning his chair around and kissing him forcefully on the lips.

"Back off me, you bloody rapist!" the Englishman cried, shoving the man off his chest to find an attractive blond rubbing off his lips.

"Wait, is- is this guy your boyfriend?" the American asked, shocked from what just happened.

"Ummmmmmmm," was all Arthur could say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ten minutes earlier~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys, it's been two whole days since I've seen my precious Lovi," Antonio whined as he entered the coffee shop behind the two other member of their trio. "I don't know how much longer I can make it without seeing him."

"You've only met him once _mon cher_. Plus, his way of saying goodbye was punching you in the face. I think you're better off without him," Francis reasoned, as he sat down at a table with his friends.

"_Ja_, I'm with Francis on this one. Just let it go," Gilbert agreed.

"That's not fair! You've been obsessed with that Mattie character ever since we left the bar. How come you can still talk about him?" the Italian complained.

"Okay, first of all, I am not obsessed with anybody, I'm too awesome for that, and two, he didn't give me a shiner after two seconds of talking to him. He basically assaulted you."

"I believe the word you're looking for is _loved_. As in he basically _loved_ me."

"What? That doesn't even make sense!"

"Everything makes sense in the name of love!" the brunette exclaimed, while banging his fist on the table.

"What?"

"You heard me!"

"Okay, why don't you two continue this conversation while I go get our drinks from the barista?" Francis suggested, as he got up and walked to the counter. He was standing in line when a voice called out to him and made his whole body shiver.

"Francy? Francy is that you?"_ Oh god no, _the Frenchman thought, _just stand still and maybe she'll think you're someone else._ He didn't hear her call his name again and concluded that his plan had worked. He was moving up in the line and was about to order when he felt a cold hand on his arm.

"Francy? It is you, isn't it?" he heard say. He reluctantly turned around to greet her, but was shocked when he saw her. She had the same piercing blue eyes, creepy smile, even the bow in her hair was identical as before. The only thing different about the female standing in front of him was her hair. Instead of the usual silky brown hair that he had grown accustomed to, she had platinum blond locks.

"_Bonjour, _how- how have you've been?" the blond greeted tentatively.

"I'm fine, it's just that you didn't call me. Just now I was trying to get your attention and you pretended that you couldn't hear me, which I knew was a lie because even guy in front of you turned around to see who I was calling. It's like you're trying to avoid me or something, and I don't deal well with being avoided," she replied, with her most disturbing grin.

"What, no. Of course not."

"Then why didn't you call me?" Denise asked furiously, stepping closer to him.

"Um, you're invading my personal space, but okay."

"Answer the question," the blond ordered, crossing her arms.

"Okay, well, truth is... I'm gay," Francis shrugged, as if the most natural thing in the world.

"What?!" the stalker cried incredulously. "That's impossible! You're lying!"

"Ah, I wish I was _mon cher, _but it is the truth."

"No! I don't believe you! How about all the times we hugged, or had make-out sessions. Or how about the time I let yo-"

"I was just trying to cover up who I really was, and I'm sorry but, in reality, this is who I really am. I hope you can accept that."

"No, I don't accept anything 'cause this is not who you are!"

"I'm sorry miss, but your friend here is try to come out to you. I think you should at the very least try to understand," a female standing behind Francis in line commented.

"No, at the very least, I could pick you up and throw you out of this coffee shop manually for interrupting my conversation," Denise hissed at the woman.

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry. In fact, I don't even need my coffee anymore. I'm just going to go now." The woman quickly stepped out of line and made a dash for the door.

"Now that little twerp is gone... I still don't believe you, so you're going to come with me now!" the platinum blond exclaimed, grabbing the Frenchman's arm forcefully.

"Wait, wait, I can prove it! I have a boyfriend!" the blond wailed.

"What?! Since when?!" Denise asked, still holding his arm.

"Since yesterday, I promise you, I'm telling the truth, just let me go!"

"Fine," the blue-eyed woman agreed, releasing her grip on his arm. "Prove it."

"What?"

"You heard me, prove it."

"How?"

"Go up to him, right now, and kiss him."

"Here?"

"Yes."

"Ummmm, but..."

"He is here, right? I mean, what kind of boyfriend wouldn't spend every living second of everyday with their partner?"

"A normal one," the blond muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. But, weird question, what if he wasn't here?"

"Then he really wouldn't be your boyfriend."

"Whew, that's a relief 'cause my boyfriend is here. He's just waiting for me back at the table."

"Which table?"

"Um...give me a second." Francis looked back to where he was sitting before and saw no one was sitting at the table. _Damn, now I need to find someone else to be play my boyfriend. _He scanned the shop until he found familiar dirty blond hair._ Wait, is that? I think it is. That's the guy I saw the bar. I mean, I can't really see his face, but I'd know that hair anywhere. Oh, this will be fun._

"That guy's my boyfriend," Francis explained, pointing towards the table where the dirty blond was sitting.

"Wait, where? I can't see who you're pointing at."

"There. The guy sitting with the blond blue-eyed guy with the glasses." When Denise saw who he was pointing to, her whole body became tense.

"That is not your boyfriend," she explained sternly.

"_Oui, _he really is. Here, I'll go kiss him now." He started to walk toward his 'boyfriend' when Denise grabbed his arm.

"I said, no," she said calmly, but assertively. "He's not your boyfriend."

"No, he is. Here let me show you." He quickly slipped out of her grasp and ran up behind the guy. He turned the blond's chair around and passionately kissed him on the lips. He could here Denise's cry out "NOOOOOO!" as he pulled away. He smiled and opened his eyes to find a pair a violet eyes staring back at him.

"Hello," the violet-eyed man greeted. "You like to greet people by kissing them on the lips too?"

"Who is this guy Ivan?" the other guy at the table asked.

"Why, he is my new best friend Eduard." Ivan explained scarily, still grinning up at the Frenchman. "You will become one with me, da?"

"You're not who I thought you were," Francis realized looking at the Russian.

"That does not matter. You will still become one with me, da?" the dirty blond questioned again, standing up. Francis looked at the specimen in front of him and concluded that he was at least two inches higher taller and had a good thirty pounds on him.

"Ummmm..."

"I TOLD YOU HE WASN'T YOUR BOYFRIEND!" Denise screamed approaching the Frenchman. "YOU SHOULD'VE LISTENED!"

"Natalya?" Ivan asked, stepping between Francis and the infuriated woman. "Is that you? Do you know my new best friend?"

"Natalya? I thought your name was Denise," the blond asked.

"Shut up! I don't need to explain myself to you!" Natalya yelled at him.

"Natalya? Why is he calling you Denise? Explain this to me," Ivan ordered, still barricading her way to his new best friend.

"Okay, fine. I changed my name to Denise to get this guy to date me and make you jealous! It was working until he said he was gay and kissed you! Now, I have to kill him!" She leaped on the Russian and tried to get to the Frenchman, but the violet-eyed man stood his ground.

"Go ahead, best friend. I will handle her. You will have to become one with me later," Ivan said, pointing towards the door. Francis shook his head furiously and ran for the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Five minutes before at Gilbert and Antonio's table~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Love!" Antonio cried, banging his fist on the table.

"No!" Gilbert exclaimed in reply, copying his friend's motions.

"Love!"

"No!"

"Love!"

"No!"

"Love!"

"No!"

"Love!"

"No!"

"Lovi!"

"No! Wait, what?"

"I just saw my precious Lovi enter the bathroom!" the Spaniard cried gleefully, while jumping out of his seat. "I've got to go after him."

"What? Are you sure it was him? And won't it be a bit weird to follow someone into the bathroom?"

"I am positive that he was my Lovi! Plus, nothing is weird in the name of love!" the brunette finished, running to the bathroom. _I still don't know what that means, _the albino thought. _but I should still go with him just to make sure he won't get beat up again. _The red-eyed man got up and followed his comrade into the facilities. Sure enough, when they opened the bathroom door they saw Lovino washing his hands at the sink.

"Lovi!" Antonio exclaimed, running up to the Italian and hugging him senseless. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Back the fuck away from me, you creep!" the brunette screamed, trying to squirm out of his captor's grasp, but failed to no avail.

"No, Lovi! I can never let you go again! I searched everywhere for you! I even went back to the bar, but you weren't there!" Lovino finally managed to get of Antonio's death grip, and ran to the other side of the room.

"The only reason you didn't find me at me at the bar was because I got fired 'cause of you, you stupid bastard!"

"What? What did I do? And why are you so far away from me?" the green-eyed man asked, taking a step towards his crush.

"Stay the fuck where you are, you- you bubblegumin toppleganger?"

"What's a toppleganger?"

"It's a- a form of-...just shut up, okay?! I got fired after I punched you on Friday, but it was still all your fault!"

"I'm sorry, Lovi, I really am," the Spaniard apologized, taking another step towards the man.

"The fuck did I just say toppleganger?! Stay the fuck away from me! I don't want anything to do with you! It's your fucking fault that I had to make my friend Mattie get me a job here as a barista!" At this comment, Gilbert eyes seemed to widen.

"Wait, you know Mattie? Does he work here?" the Prussian asked tentatively.

"Oh, so he lives! I was starting to think that you were just a statue. Why do you care if Mattie works here?"

"Um... he's just an old friend of mine. So does he work here? Is he here now?"

"Why the fuck would I tell you that?! That's right, I know your game! You casually ask about my friend, say you're an old friend when your really not, and then stalk him for the rest of his life! That's how the- Oh fuck no, I'm beginning to sound the Arthur!"

"Whatever, now I need to go check it out for myself," the albino said, as he left the bathroom.

"I need to go also." The Italian started to walk towards the exit when the Spaniard grabbed his arm.

"No, you can't go. You have to at least give me your number," Antonio reasoned.

"I don't have to give you anything!" Lovino cried, slapping his hand away. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

"No! No, I can never leave you alone!" the brunette declared.

"What's your name again?"

"Antonio Carriedo, but why i-"

"Bye." The brown-eyed man made a dash for the door, leaving the Spaniard dumbfounded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~At the coffee counter~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Who's next?" Matthew asked, waiting for the next customer.

"That would be the awesome me, Mattie," Gilbert smirked, approaching him and leaning on the counter that separated them. "You look cute today."

"Um...thanks, I guess. What can I get your sir?"

"No need to be so formal Mattie," the albino explained, extending his arm and taking the blond's hand. The Canadian quickly pulled back his hand and stared at the customer quizzically.

"Do I know you or something?"

"Don't play dumb Mattie, it doesn't work for you," the Prussian grinned, although he was a little hurt that the barista snapped his hand back so quickly.

"I'm sorry sir, but I not know who you are."

"We met at Harrison's Pub."

"I'm afraid that doesn't really help. My friend used to work there, and I used to go there everyday once I got off from work. It was basically like my second home," the violet-eyed man chuckled.

"Wait,..so- so you forgot me?" the German asked, his smile fading.

"I-I think so. I mean, when did we meet exactly?"

"We met on Friday night. I hit on you."

"Friday? That doesn't help, so many guys were hitting on me that day."

"What?!" Gilbert cried. "What do you mean so many guys were hitting on you?! I should be the only guy hitting on you!"

"Sir, I don't even know who you are! Do you want coffee or not?" the Canadian asked annoyed.

"What?! Coffee?! Why would even bring that up?!" the red-eyed man inquired.

"Because sir, you are in line at a coffee shop and frankly, if you're not going to order anything then you are just holding up the line."

"Fine...," the Prussian said, trying to regain his composure. "I want you and a cappuccino."

"I can get you the cappuccino, but I'm afraid I'm not on the menu," Matthew replied, irritated.

"But I say you are, and as you already know, the customer is always right."

"Not this time. Now sir, if you're not really going to order, you must step out of line."

"Wait, so are you saying that the customer is almost always right? I have to say that's not as catchy of a slogan."

"Very funny, sir."

"Stop calling me sir, Mattie, it's Gilbert!"

"Well. how was I suppose to know that?"

"Because we met already!"

"I already told you sir, I don't remember. I think you're mistaking me for someone else."

"I'm sure it was you. If we haven't met before then how do I know you're name's Mattie?"

"'Cause that's what it says on my apron," Matthew pointed out, showing him the gold-embroidered letters on his outfit. "Now, if you're not going to order anything can you please get of the line?"

"I- Maybe if- Possibly bec- you know what? Fine, you won this round but I will be back," the German warned as he exited the line. "I _will _be back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back to Arthur~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wait, why would you think he's my boyfriend?" the attractive blond asked. "He just called me a rapist."

"So, he's called me worse while we were dating," Alfred shrugged. "In fact, I think he treats me better now then when we were dating."

"Well, we are-"

"Dating. We are dating," Arthur interrupted. "Ever since last Friday."

"Really? How fascinating," the American commented.

"What, no! We aren't-" the blond started, but was interrupted once again. This time by a loud "NOOOOOOOO!" ringing through the air.

"What was that?"

"It doesn't matter honey, now sit down!" the Brit ordered, pulling the stranger into the chair next to him and pulling him close. "We are dating. Got it?"

"Yes," the blond whimpered in reply, satisfying the Englishman. Arthur moved out of his 'boyfriend's' personal space and looked back at his ex.

"We are dating."

"I see that," the blue-eyed man agreed, looking at the man who was supposedly dating his ex. "What was your name again?"

"Oh, it's Peter," the blond smiled.

* * *

**Hint Hint: Like I said before I've been especially busy these days, but one never knows. I could be motivated by reviews to write the next chapter soon, like, I don't know, maybe, let's say, out of the blue, 15 reviews total. Hmm? Hmm? Hmmmmmmmmmmm?(in case you can't tell, my voice tends to go up at the end of my hmmmms). Let's make a deal, if I can get 15 reviews for this story then I will post the next chapter within 36 hours from the monet that I received the total of 15 reviews for my story. So, you know, just putting it out there. Ta ta for now!**


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